


After All This Time

by orphan_account



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You thought your dreams were all you had left, stuck in this place where you feel you don't belong. Then you see him, the white of his lab coat matching the color of his hair, and he's just as you dreamt him to be. That night, for the first time, you don't dream. Because they've all come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After All This Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and is not intended to slight the medical profession in their efforts to help people with mental illness.
> 
> Originally posted on atailof2cities tumblr on March 11, 2013.

You dream of him again. The one you've never met, but he's always in your dreams. It's all you want to do these days, stuck in this place; no one believing you when you tell them that there's someone you **_know_** is looking for you. At least you hope that's true.

They can medicate you all they want to prevent the dreams, your delusions they say. But it never stops the dreams and for that you're grateful. It's all you have left after all this time.

Psychiatrists are useless, never really talking to you and just ordering more meds to control your fantasies. Wanting to force you into the **_real_** world. Psychologists aren't much better. For some strange reason when you meet with them you seem to end up talking about their lives, their problems, much more than yours. Or at least they think you have a problem. They're the delusional ones. Then there were all the counselors and therapists who would at least pretend they were listening but eventually they all gave up on you in the end. Said it was all in your head, which it is, actually. What do they know anyway. You refused to give in, to admit they were right, because you know in your heart that he's out there somewhere and hopefully some day you'll find him.

So you turn in your sleep and continue to dream of him.

 

When you were young your parents died in a fire. You survived but still bear the scars as a forever reminder of that horrible night. You spent your youth in orphanages and foster homes in a world that had never shown you any kindness. When you innocently started to tell people about your dreams they looked at you like you were crazy, and so began the endless stream of doctor visits and tests until you felt you wanted to scream. At the time you were too young to realize that if you'd just shut up and go along with them they'd leave you alone. But it never occurred to you to lie about it, to try to hide it, and just fit in with the crowd. They always said that lying was wrong, but when you told the truth no one believed you. What else could you do?

So here you are, right where they left you because no one wanted to be bothered with such a stubborn, problem child.

 

Now you're in the common area, surrounded by all sorts of interesting people with all their various ailments. You don't feel like you fit in here either, so you keep to yourself. Their time would be better spent on someone who genuinely needs it rather than wasting it on you, but they refuse to let you out, thinking that you're a danger to yourself if they don't keep **_helping_** you.

There's some new interns filing through the building today and you stare at them with indifferent eyes. All it means is that more people will try to help you and all you can do is sigh inwardly as you think to yourself _'fuck that'._

Then you see him, the white of his lab coat matching the color of his hair, and your heart feels like it's going to pound right out of your chest. He's just as you dreamt him to be and when he looks in your direction his eyes go wide immediately and then they soften, brimming with kindness as a smile forms on his lips.

You're aware that your mouth has dropped open, that you're gaping stupidly at him, but you don't care. All sound drops away from the room and in the blessed silence you're glad that you're not sleeping and dreaming, because this is infinitely better than any dream you could ever have.

A bell sounds, signaling the end of free time, cutting through the silence and jarring you back to reality. A reality you're finally happy to be in. You get up and shuffle off back to your room to await the next round of counseling sessions they subject you to, but this time your heart is light, you no longer feel dead inside because he's here and maybe, just maybe, you'll get to see him again.

That night, for the first time, you don't dream.

 

As the days pass you see him from time to time but mostly they have him working on another wing with the hardcore cases because, apparently, he's some kind of genius.

Whatever. You **_know_** he's still here even when you don't see him. You can feel his presence and you're certain beyond doubt that you'd know if he ever left. You carry on with your routine, muddling through your sessions, not that you were ever into them. You've been proven right and even if you never see him again you're at peace with yourself, but you'd still like to be able to talk to him at least once.

Whenever you see him from across the common room he always looks your way and smiles, but you're not sure if that's a real smile or one of pity. You pray it's the former, and sometimes it seems as if he wants to talk to you. You can see him start to move towards you but then someone always holds him up and takes him away and, **_goddamnit,_** it's just not fair!

The next morning when you wake you realize your pillow is wet but you don't know why that is.

 

You find out that his internship will be up soon and it makes your heart ache but now you're determined to leave this place. So in your next session when they ask about your dreams you can honestly tell them you don't have them anymore. Because they've all come true, but you don't say that part. They look concerned at first like maybe you're making it all up but eventually they begin to believe your sincerity and consider releasing you.

That night as you sleep the sound of your door opening and softly closing stirs you but you pretend to continue to sleep. You **_know_** it's him. He's finally come to see you and you hold your breath in anticipation of what he'll say or do. He moves next to the bed and kneels down on the floor, his hand touching your face gently, and then he whispers, "I know." Your heart stops beating for a moment and then he murmurs again, "I know, and I'll wait for you for however long it takes."

His hand brushes away your long bangs and he kisses you lightly on the forehead. You want to reach out and take that hand. To hold it and never let go but he's already standing and walking towards the door. It opens and shuts quietly and he's gone but now you're more certain than ever that you'll see him again.

The next morning when you wake your pillow is wet again but now you know the reason why.

 

Your sessions progress at a steady pace. You temper your impatience with the knowledge that everything will be okay eventually. They finally agree that it's safe to release you, and on that day when you walk out the front doors to your freedom you drop your bag of meager belongings to the ground in amazement because he's standing beside his car in the driveway, waiting for you just like he said he would.

He walks over to you and lifts his hand to touch your face once again, and this time you take that hand and hold it tightly, the warmth radiating throughout your body. He wraps you in his arms and you start shaking, the tears falling from your eyes, and you let them. Then you realize he's shaking also and you're both standing outside the institution you've been confined to for so long just sobbing like a couple of babies.

The sobbing starts to quiet and then turns to chuckles and then outright laughter. You both continue to laugh as he picks up your bag and you follow him to the car, getting in together. He starts it up and pulls out of the driveway, merging with the traffic flowing by, and the sound of your laughter is picked up and carried away on a gentle wind.


End file.
